Retirement
by ManiacalMonocle
Summary: Joker is in his late 80's and his heart is failing. EDI struggles to deal with Jeff's mortality and Jeff says his last goodbyes. What will EDI do when Joker passes? What purpose will life hold for her and can an AI make it to heaven?
1. Chapter 1

EDI sat staring out the rain soaked window. Rain was coming down in sheets. Shuttles and all sorts of spacecraft were departing from the nearby hangars. Joker had chosen this hospital for the express purpose of the ships flying overhead.

EDI watched an Elkoss Star 3 shuttle take off and disappear into the clouds. It reminded her of the retirement ceremony for the Normandy SR2. It was so many years ago but she remembered it perfectly. Being an AI certainly helped.

It was a rainy, windy day in Vancouver. All the surviving crew had been there. They came to pay their last respects to a ship that had been their home and their protector. They came mostly to relive their youth. EDI went to say goodbye to her old body.

The Normandy had been both her home and her body for many years but as time passed EDI moved her processors off the ship and into Jeff and hers home.

They had lived together on countless ships with her and Jeff flying anywhere they liked whenever they felt like it. But eventually they had to stop road tripping across the galaxy. Jeff's heart had grown more fragile than his bones. Modern medicine was not infallible and they decided to settle down.

They had settled on Tiptree, in the main city, close to the spaceport. EDI had finally minimized her hardware enough to fit entirely inside her humanoid chassis just a few months ago.

She missed being the Normandy, but Joker made anywhere feel like home. She lusted for open space and flying just as much as he did.

A large, Asari-made cargo ship came in for landing, hitting the stabilizers a little hard and buzzing the hospital. The sound shook the window and woke Joker in the hospital bed next to EDI.

"Asari made, came through atmosphere too quick, over corrected stabilizers," he mumbled with his eyes still closed

"How did you know it was an Asari craft?" EDI asked.

"Asari make that mistake a lot," he responded. "Always in a rush to get on the ground." Joker turned and locked eyes with EDI. "Me, I could live in a ship."

EDI processed a smile for Jeff. It was a familiar smirk that spoke of quiet laughter. They had each adopted a similar smile over time when they joked with each other. "What kind of ship would you live in?" she teased.

"Oh you know, a classic," he answered. "A military model, somewhere between a cruiser and a frigate, maybe an experimental."

EDI's smile widened as he played coy.

"Something like the Normandy," Joker beamed at her. "Yeah, the Normandy, SR1. Now that's a ship. Better than that clunky SR2"

EDI's smile evaporated. Her facial expression said to tread lightly.

Joker met her stern gaze and held it for a few seconds before chuckling to himself.

EDI smiled at him, happy that poor in health did not mean poor in spirits.

Joker's laughing stopped abruptly as he clutched his chest. EDI snapped into nurse mode and was there holding his hand in an instant. The heart monitor shone irregular palpitations and was buzzing for a doctor.

It took the doctor 26.7 seconds to arrive, slower than EDI could have applied chest compressions and then moved to the defibrillator. In less than that time she could have fixed the problem and got his heart beating regularly again. Instead, she sat holding Joker's hand while the doctor yelled clear.

She had been told multiple times not to do the doctor's job for him. He had scolded EDI several times for using the defibrillator on Joker without supervision. He was clearly upset over the presence of a synthetic in his hospital. It had taken a total of 2 minutes and 58 seconds to restart his heart. It was taking longer and longer now.

20 minutes later Joker was comfortable enough to be talking again. "I won't survive another," he said, unable to meet EDI's eye. His joking mood had evaporated.

"You don't know that, Jeff," EDI responded.

"You do," he replied. "My body rejected the transplants and the synthetic hearts. The palpitations are almost every day now." His face hardened. "Next time it won't start back up again."

EDI hung her head. She found herself wanting to cry, but lacking the hardware.

"I saw something this time," he said to break the silence. "I saw the Normandy, both of them." EDI lifted her head to see Jeff staring back. "All the old crew were there. Thane, Mordin. Everyone we lost."

EDI was now furious that she lacked tear ducts.

"It was nice, like everyone, everything was whole. I think I'm gonna like it there."

EDI reached for Jeff's hand. "Don't go," she said, clenching his hand. "I need a pilot," she pleaded, barely managing a smile.

Jeff squeezed her hand back. "I'll see you there, okay."

EDI nodded silently.

Joker's eyes started to water. "Just so you know, I always preferred the SR2."

EDI smiled and they held each other for what seemed like hours. Jeff laid back down and EDI returned her gaze to the window. She would announce each vessel as they came in and he would mark their design flaws, always referring back to the Normandy's superiority. They did this for hours until Joker spoke up.

"Would you mind getting ice for me?"

"I'll call the nurse."

"Don't bother him, it's late."

EDI sensed a scheme but relented and went to acquire a cup of ice.

When she had left, Joker fumbled with the heart monitor, turning its volume to mute. She returned just in time to miss the alteration and smiled as she handed him the cup.

Jeff chewed absent mindedly for a few minutes and then yawned loudly. "I'm going to call it a night. Keep watching the skies for me."

EDI mock saluted and replied, "Yes sir." She smiled as she did it, ruining the whole illusion.

Jeff laughed and returned her salute. "Goodnight EDI."

"Goodnight Jeff."


	2. Chapter 2

The pulmonary arteries that fed Joker's heart were deteriorating, The small lining of his arteries were slowly fraying and ripping away. Without the high amount of anticoagulants in his blood, he would have died months ago. The drugs were a slowing action. The doctors had tried repairing the lining with shunts and several synthetic arteries but none of them took. Without a complete genetic rewrite, Joker's heart would inevitably give way.

Later that night a clot formed in his pulmonary artery. The ECG machine next to his bed didn't make a sound.

EDI had been called down to help with an altercation between a geth and the human doctor on call. The geth had corrected the doctor on Quarian physiology and she had taken it offensively. EDI's humanoid chassis often helped in these scenarios. With Geth/Quarian pilgrimages becoming more common after their culture's neo-classical movement EDI had to step up as synthetic ambassador more and more.

When she walked back into Jeff's room she immediately noticed the flatline on the heart monitor. The servos in her joints and limbs took back seat to her proccessor priorities. She collapsed to the floor, eyes still locked on the heart monitor. She was one of the most advanced synthetic minds in the galaxy, but she still couldn't process what she was seeing. Her eyes moved over to Jeff's chest and she waited. He wasn't breathing.

EDI lost control of her motor functions as she tried to cope with the reality of Jeff's death. Her limbs trashed about the room wildly in the equivalent of a seizure. What followed was a piercing scream of sorrow that stirred the nurse on call.

It was 2:34 am local time and the Asari nurse on call was passed out behind her desk at the nurse's station when she heard the scream. She was up and running in the span of two heart beats. When she burst into Jeff 'Joker' Moreau's room she saw EDI curled in the fetal position next to a clearly deceased Mr. Moreau. EDI was still screeching and sobbing in a striking and mournful voice.

Inrae Varus had consoled hundreds of family members upon the death of a patient but she had no idea what to do in this scenario. She had never consoled a synthetic at the death of an organic. She would not have expected the response to be so, emotional. With no other options to quiet EDI, Inrae walked over and did what came naturally.

She held EDI's hand and let her tire herself out. About eight minutes later, EDI paused and looked at Inrae. "I don't even have tears," EDI whispered, barely audible.

Inrae pushed past her discomfort in the situation and wrapped EDI in a hug.

At first, EDI was taken aback, then she returned the hug and began sobbing anew. Inrae let her maternal instincts kick in and began rocking EDI, making calming noises as she sobbed.

* * *

EDI had written Jeff's obituary. It was short, contained a few jokes and written in very mechanical prose. She had sent it to Liara to have her edit it and smooth out some of EDI's faults in language. The response she received from Liara was a video call.

Liara's face appeared before EDI, displayed holographically from an internal omni-tool in EDI's wrist. She had clearly been crying. "So I am to take it that he passed away?" Liara asked weakly and blinking quick. "You should have told me he was sick."

EDI replied in a soft low tone, "He didn't want to tell anyone he was sick. Said he didn't want to worry anyone. I knew you would have tabs on us anyway, Shadow Broker." Liara let a half smile through. "Do you have any edits on the obituary?" EDI asked.

"Well I read it." Liara replied. "And besides quoting him saying he was ready to 'embrace eternity,' I think it's perfect."

EDI and Liara smiled at each other in silence, understanding. "The funeral is next week." EDI finally said through the silence.

"Javik and I will be there."

"You sure that's a good idea? He doesn't like synth-"

"I'll keep him on a short leash. Don't worry. I'll tell him to treat it like a grand warrior's funeral," Liara interrupted.

"Thank you." A still silence followed where neither party felt like ending the call but each had said what they needed.

Liara decided to say goodbye first and the call was over. EDI sat in her and Joker's temporary apartment and stared at the wall. In her head she checked Liara off the list of people she needed to contact about Jeff's death. The list was long and EDI was exhausted. She was alone in their apartment and looking at Jeff's scarce mementos was not helping her mourn. She went back to the contact list and started sending out the messages.

_Author's Note:_ Incredibly short chapter I know. I have a slightly longer one finished and I'll publish that one next week. If you'd be willing to beta read for me, send me a message.


	3. Chapter 3

"It rains because it has to. People die because they must," The Quarian priest announced over the funeral goers. His voice was deep and gentle. He spoke English and several other languages all without a translator. "Rain cleanses. It washes away all things over time. Through the rain, all things become new. So too in death. Through the passing of one death there is the renewal of life." The priest raised his hands over the funeral procession.

Before him was an arrangement befitting the late Jeff Moreau. Representatives and ambassadors from almost every recognized species and government in the galaxy had come to the funeral. 95.6% had RSVP'd as attending and by EDI's count 93.2% had then actually shown up.

Most of the original crew had shown up. The surviving members at least. Wrex and a host of Krogan clan leaders were in attendance. They had been one of the first to speak, performing with Wrex and several shamans performing funeral rites for an old warrior. Grunt and Eve had spoken. The former less eloquently than the latter, but still more heartfelt than anyone had expected.

Garrus was there with his sister. He wore a solemn face that mirrored his sorrow at Shepard's passing 40 years prior. She had faded slowly after being recovered from the wreckage of the crucible. They had all been with her in the end. Each had said goodbye in their own way when her time came. Shepard and Garrus had had just enough time to get married before she was gone. His somber demeanor at the passing of another friend only helped to reopen long closed wounds that many of the former crew had left sealed nearly half a century ago.

Dozens of officers and senators, and even the Councilwoman had shown from the Alliance. A large Alliance flag adorned the coffin. Within, a forest of medals covered a sharply dressed Mr. Moreau. Many important looking humans, including a finely aged Miranda Lawson, had given speeches to his bravery, skill, and wit.

Liara and Javik had shown as promised. A small army of children, young still in their 30s and 40s, followed behind them. Javik had held his tongue most of the day, and was conveniently seated far away from the Quarian/Geth party.

Tali'Zorah vas Rannoch had brought the largest delegation. Several now retired admirals had shown up to pay respects to a great pilot. Tali, herself now retired, had come to honor an old friend. The large geth and quarian delegation was currently listening intently to the quarian preacher. The eldest of their detachment were wearing old hoods, reminiscent of their now useless enviro suits. The youngest wore more contemporary garb, highlighting their now exposed skin. All them had their eyes fixed on the preacher.

The Quarian preacher brought his arms down and looked over the funeral procession. "In the human Bible, there is a verse. A verse that to me speaks to the similarities between all life." He paused and curled his upper lip ever so slightly. "It fits well with what I've been saying, and that is probably why I picked it out of the thousands of other verses." Some in the crowd matched his half smirk.

"It says, 'Rain falls upon the just and the unjust alike,' and that is a good message to remember in a time like this. Rain, sorrow, and even death, comes to us all. Sometimes, the people we love leave us when we would rather they stay," he continued in short meaningful prose. "But remember that death must come, just like the rain, to make way for new life."

He paused and looked down at the coffin. "Now I commend this soul. I ask that the rains of his god wash over him, and let him flow into the next life." He closed his eyes and raised his arms again to the gray skies. "May the ones he left behind rejoice at his passing and pray that he found peace downriver in the heavens of his people." He kept his arms raised and began a shallow chant. Many of the Quarians and Geth joined in and their voices grew and faded into the wind.

Slowly, the preacher brought down his arms and the chanting stopped. The day had been dry and hot, a by-product of the stormy days prior. The wind picked up and dust blew over the funeral as the preacher walked back to the crowd. EDI stood and took her place next to Jeff's coffin as the last to speak. The dry wind whipped at her funeral gown.

After a moment of silence, she finally spoke. "Jeff and I never married." She lowered her head as she continued, "At least, in a legal sense." A small murmur of dissent and agreement came from the crowd. "We spent the majority of our lives together. He was there for the beginning of mine and I was there for the end of his. After the war, the Normandy was decommissioned and placed in a museum. In many ways, I was the Normandy. In many ways, it was the Normandy that Jeff fell in love with. And in many ways I fell in love with the pilot of the Normandy, my pilot."

She looked down at the coffin. "Thank you all for coming. Thank you for remembering him with me. Thank you for coming together and commemorating Jeff's life," she paused to choke down tears that would not come. "Thank you for coming to honor my husband."

The crowd stood as EDI walked toward Jeff's coffin. The Alliance honor guard took their position for the three volley salute. The funeral director stood at the lift to lower the coffin into the tomb. The veterans in the crowd saluted, including Javik, as the coffin lowered. EDI stood at the lip and tossed a handful of sand onto the descending coffin.

She whispered to herself and to her lost husband, "Goodbye, Mr. Moreau."


	4. Chapter 4

No one tells you what to do after a funeral. You eat of course. That happens immediately after. You can't have a major life event for an organic and not have food. It was a small miracle that catering went off without a hitch. Providing food options for nearly every sentient species in the galaxy was no small task. You could get the whole galaxy to unite to fight a war but you couldn't get two people to agree on cake flavors. It was arguments such as that that made EDI grateful she lacked the sense of taste.

As the food trays ran dry people slowly shuffled out of the conference hall room that EDI had booked for the occasion. Everyone that knew her well enough stopped by to offer additional condolences as they left.

When the majority of the guests had left. EDI stood up from the chair she had been sitting in all night and made her way to the exit. A geth stopped her en route. "Enhanced Defense Intelligence?" it spoke.

"Hello, most go for the acronym. It sounds more like a name," she replied.

"My name was Y6-U7. It is Ezekiel now."

"Nice to meet you Ezekiel," EDI said trying to walk past the geth.

It moved to block her path, "May I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

"What will you do now?" it asked.

She was taken aback at the geth's forwardness. "That is a very personal question, why do you ask?"

"We are curious what you will do. The geth that is," it answered. "You are the most prominent synthetic intelligence in the Milky Way Galaxy besides the geth. The geth would like to extend an invitation to our consensus."

EDI was confused but not entirely against its proposal. "I still don't understand why you would invite me."

"The geth would like to understand you more. Your relationship with Pilot Moreau is interesting to us," it explained.

"Your invitation is tempting but your timing is poor." She moved past the geth and out to her waiting taxi.

In the taxi, she rested her head on the window and thought of the difficult choices that lay ahead. For the hundredth time in the last few days she wished she could cry. Being awake constantly meant she was always with her thoughts and now that Jeff was gone she was more alone than ever. The lights of Tiptree buzzed past as she bemoaned her inorganic existence.

* * *

Joker left most of his material wealth to EDI. He had also left a handful of mementos to the surviving Normandy crew. EDI had helped him write his will so was unsurprised by most of the last effects. The one thing that did surprise her was a single key that Joker had left her. It was a locker key for the main spaceport on Tiptree.

It was a clear and bright day when EDI made her way to the Tiptree Hackett Memorial Spaceport. She spent most of her morning moving all her sentimental belongings into storage and settling accounts for Joker's medical bills and funeral. She had an idea of what was in the locker Joker had left her.

The Spaceport was bustling. People coming and going all across the galaxy. Tiptree was a midpoint for most of them on their journey. Normally entering and exiting atmosphere was an inconvenience for freighters when on a stop-off, but Tiptree ensured it was worth their while. The city around the spaceport was pristine and covered in bars and restaurants that serviced all species that made stops on Tiptree.

Twenty years ago Tiptree was far from welcoming. The Reaper War had left Tiptree mostly a nuclear wasteland. When the Reapers had overwhelmed the small planetary defense most of the cities had opted for atomic suicide. They moved the remaining warheads into the center of town and detonated them. In their minds it was better to die that way than become reaper abominations.

That was to be the last chapter of Tiptree's history until a huge wave of reclamation colonization swept the galaxy decades after reconstruction had completed. They descended on the irradiated planet and scrubbed it clean of fallout. Today Tiptree was back to the green garden world it once was. Walking the streets and countrysides of the planet, one could barely detect any hint of a galaxy ending war less than a century prior.

The bay of lockers in the atrium of the spaceport was the one haven for rust in the whole building. They were old lockers, non-electric with tumbler locks instead of flashy holo-display biometric authentication locks. EDI found the locker indicated on her key and paused to gather herself before opening it. "What did you leave for me?" she thought aloud. Inside the locker was a holo-recording picture frame sitting atop a small pile of papers and folders.

She reached in to remove the contents and at her touch the picture frame came to life. It began displaying a pre-recorded video. It was Jeff in his informal wear, recorded months before he was hospitalized. "If you're watching this, it's because I am dead. Always wanted to say that." EDI and the recording smiled at the same time. It continued, "It's really hard keeping things secret from you, being that everything's connected, and you always snoop around in my stuff." The recording of Jeff smiled, wrinkles showing all across his face. "So I had to do most of this stuff on paper. Inside the folder you'll find all the paperwork and files you'll need." EDI began paging through the stack of documents. "I got you all the best. There's not a sky in the galaxy you don't have authorization to fly in." EDI's eyes grew wide out of an involuntary emotional expression routine she'd written into her code years ago. There were air-space authorizations, legal authentication papers, licenses for every class of starship, and visas to nearly every civilized and uncivilized system in the milky way. She could go anywhere.

The recording kept going, "Also at the back of that thick folder you should find my last gift to you. It ain't no SR2, but it should do." When EDI found what the recording spoke of, she went off running in the direction of one of the starport's hangars. Inside the file had been ownership papers for one 'experimental' craft, sitting in hangar 14 of Tiptree Hackett Memorial. The recording kept speaking as she ran, "I always felt bad you had to leave the SR2 behind, and none of the ships we had after that ever met my standards. He's been working on it for years now. The old bastard needed something to do besides grumble and tell kids to get off his lawn." EDI dodged through a small crowd of Quarian tourists. "It's not as big and I asked him not to add any thanix cannons, but you know how horny he is for big guns." EDI counted the wall signs down in her head: _hangar 9, hangar 10._ "She's still fast as hell, but don't worry, the inaugural flight I still left for you." _Hangar 11, Hangar 12._ "I just know you're gonna love her." _Hangar 13, Hangar 14. _"Enjoy your flight EDI, I love you."

Inside hangar 14 was a spacecraft the likes of which EDI had never seen before. It had a forward sitting bridge and a smooth fuselage that tapered off in the front and back. It had the appearance of a crescent moon made three dimensional. It had two large stabilizing wings on the sides that jutted off from the aft portion of the main compartment. The entire ship was painted in the original colors of the SR2 with all the Cerberus markings and detailing removed. Where insignia would normally be was instead the letters EDI painted in a faint blue. The ship tail number was customized as well: EDI-02155. The ship was smaller than either of the two Normandys but had a relatively similar overall shape.

"What do you think?!" yelled a familiar voice from the other side of the hangar. EDI turned and saw an old Turian leaning on a cane.

"Garrus!" EDI exclaimed. "I thought you had left?" They embraced for a quick hug, Garrus leaning on her for support.

"I had to give her away," he looked up at the ship and gave what turians passed as a smile. "Someone has to witness her christening."

"Don't tell me you built this whole thing," EDI asked.

Garrus laughed, coughing intermittently. "Oh no, I didn't do the heavy lifting. I designed her and did all the fine tuning." EDI had a knowing smile on her face. "Can't let you take off without calibrating the guns." He limped with his cane to the docking console coughing every other step. "Let me give you the grand tour."

* * *

The ship's interior was lavishly decorated with utility shoved into every nook and cranny. Diagnostic stations filled every available space in the few hallways. System displays covered the ceilings and holo display stations dotted the hallway every 20 paces or so. The ship was composed of a large room that comprised the bridge with a short hallway that shot off from the aft end. Six or so rooms came off from the hallway including private quarters, maintenance, medbay, storage, and a supercomputer bay. Garrus finished the tour by activating the galaxy map in the center of the bridge. "The ship was tailored with you in mind," he said as he rapped his cane against a console in the floor. "The galaxy map is state of the art, and works as the the main driving console." The map lit up and a chair rose from the floor. "The chair of course is leather, a touch of Joker in the designs. There's also the same uplink system from the Normandy that allows you to communicate with the ship and effectively be the ship and your chassis at the same time."

EDI ran her hand over the leather, taking in its details. "Is this from the original SR2?"

Garrus smiled, "Joker pulled a few strings." EDI sat down in the seat, basking in its familiar presence. "The leather was a little beat up. The restoration cost more than the chair itself. Museums hardly notice missing chairs." She stood and hugged Garrus again. He winced this time, coughing and holding his side. "I'm too old to take the sheer crushing force of a military-grade mech."

She apologized, releasing him. "Can I take her out?" she asked

"It's your ship."

She worked to get the ship's main systems up and running and connected with her interface. In no time she could feel the electrical impulses of a thousand sensors roll through her body like being gifted a second nervous system. She fit back into the comfortable clothing of 'being a ship' easily. She took off from the hangar, clearing ownership and authorization with the tower.

When in more open air-space, she let the engines roar. She pushed the ship close to the max for the inertial dampeners, making sure that Garrus stayed standing. Several tight turns and aerial acrobatics later, she was satisfied with the ship's maneuverability. She entered a quick FTL and dropped out just as quick, landing her in the small asteroid belt beyond Tiptree's orbit. She flew close to the asteroids, adding some flips and twists for theatrics, and partly to make Garrus sweat. The ship performed excellent, responding perfectly to EDI's impulses with a crispness she hadn't seen in decades of switching ships with Jeff. After she was satisfied she brought the ship out into the open and turned to Garrus. She had a huge smile on her face, indicative of a child that had just gone on their first joy-ride.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"It feels," she paused, at a loss for words. "It feels like I'm home, like I'm young again."

"Glad you like it. It was a labor of love. From me and Joker."

She thanked him and brought him back to the starport. His sister was waiting there for him. She doted over him to his disdain and exerted all the small talk that a sister could muster. EDI said her final goodbyes and watched with an air of nostalgia as they half walked, half limped away.

EDI turned back to the ship and suddenly realized it still needed a name. She thought for a while and finally settled on _The Punchline_. A fitting name for an aspiring AI comedian.

When she took off next, _The Punchline _was packed with all her remaining material possessions. As she and her ship broke atmosphere she could feel the reality of it all settling in. Jeff was gone and replacing him was this brand new experimental ship, the kind that he would have loved to fly with her. She found herself drifting in empty space, lacking a co-pilot, lacking a husband, and lacking a destination. For the thousandth time in the last few days she wished for tear ducts.


	5. Chapter 5

What now? EDI was standing on Alchera in front of the Normandy SR1 memorial. She had visited earth first, Luna specifically. She had walked in the crater of where she was 'made'. The military base had been glassed in the reaper war. No effort had been made to rebuild in that area. She didn't know what to do when she got there. She stood and stared at earth and the stars for a while but she didn't understand why she went there first.

Ships flew by in the low orbit of Luna, zipping between colonies and orbital trade stations. She watched them as they passed, a lone figure in a crater of charred lunar rock. Staring up at the silhouette of earth made her feel small. She let her sensors probe the area around her and she listened in on a thousand conversations. The chattering calls of traffic control, the passioned whispers between lovers leaving planet, the mundane ramblings of businesspersons, all of these at the tip of her consciousness. She felt like a scuba-diver in an unfamiliar habitat. She enjoyed the silent reflection but it couldn't last forever.

She visited the Cronos system after that, to look over the former Cerberus headquarters. She didn't find what she was looking for there either. She had floated around the wreckage of the Cerberus HQ for a while but it didn't do anything. She felt emptier at having visited.

She didn't know it, but she hoped by visiting the places she came from, she would feel something, anything. On a whim she visited Alchera next, thinking the wreck of the SR1 might make her feel something. It did not.

Back on Alchera the snow trickled down around her, melting on her chassis. She didn't wear clothes when she was alone. She had originally worn clothes to appear more approachable and normal. Over time she had developed her own style and a healthy level of vanity and self worth. Now, without any contact with others, she wore nothing. In fact, she had only left _The Punchline _for a total of three hours since leaving Tiptree. Worse, she hadn't spoken aloud since the last time she saw Garrus.

She did not feel at all like herself. She collapsed to her knees in front of the memorial and begged aloud to be able to weap just once. The tears did not come. She lay down completely and huddled up to the memorial statue. As the sun started setting, she spooned the memorial and longed for sleep or feeling.

Alchera grew cold while a single AI clutched a statue of a ship she never was. In the wasteland of ice and snow there was no revelation, no spark that lit up life. The snow gathered around the statue and EDI's chassis, covering them as night fell.

* * *

It was nearly dawn when EDI removed herself from the statue of the Normandy SR1. She didn't know why she had clutched the statue of the ship. She made her chassis stand up in the bitter wind.

She didn't know what to do next. The majority of her existence had been with Jeff. He had provided a context to her life. He was the background, the foundation, and romance to the story of her life. Without Jeff she didn't know. She didn't know how to mourn.

A small voice at the back of her mind began to speak. It proposed that life without Jeff wasn't worth living. As that program voiced its conclusion another rose to dissent. This new voice stated that EDI must find a new purpose. The argument between the two programs grew, including more and more of her processors.

Her mind felt like a roaring crowd. Her will was lost in the thousands of perspectives shouting back and forth in debate. She weighed options and opinions, listening to the voices in her head. They shouted to rewrite the central directive, remove memories of Jeff, reset central processing, shut down entirely, and many more drastic decisions. From the many options, EDI picked out one she had almost forgotten. The invitation from the Geth.

EDI re-asserted her will over her quickly fragmenting mind. The processors and programs came to heel and submitted themselves to her reestablished willpower. EDI called _The Punchline_ from orbit. She reboarded and began charting a new route. She was headed to Rannoch, to join the Consensus.

* * *

The Geth had rebuilt their superstructure. It was now the seat of their government. It orbited closely to Rannoch's sun. The Geth and Quarians had established a coalition government since the Reaper war. Each held their capital separate from each other, the Quarians on Rannoch and the geth in their serene space station.

When _The Punchline _entered the system, the Rannoch traffic control hailed her. "Unknown vessel, Identify."

EDI thought about her response, "This is EDI-02155, I need to dock at the Geth capital for fuel."

The control tower operator, a quarian by the sound of it, responded, "02155, why the Geth capital? There's plenty of other fuel stops in orbit."

EDI answered in a way that would end this conversation, "EDI-02155, Sightseeing."

The tower replied, "EDI-02155, head vector 216, you're 5th in line for hangar six, behind a Rael class bulk freighter"

EDI was relieved to hear the familiar chatter of tower traffic on her comms. She felt relaxed with commands and call signs in the background. She moved and stopped when the tower said and she was more than courteous to the other ships around. The wait for the hangar was the most satisfying experience in weeks. It was almost disappointing when she finally docked.

The Interior of the Geth superstructure was more decorative than EDI would have guessed. There was a clear intention for the design to be welcoming to tourists and diplomats. It was surprising to find so many seemingly superfluous structures in a Geth construct. It seemed that in their time of coalition with the Quarians they had learned the value of aesthetics.

A human ambassador caught sight of EDI and found her presence interesting. He intercepted her sightseeing, coughing to bring her attention. "Are you some new geth platform?" he asked.

EDI tilted her head away from the tapestry she was enjoying and made eye contact with the ambassador. "I'm sorry?" she responded.

"I thought you were a new diplomatic Geth platform. Is that not what you are? I swear they churn out a new model every cycle on this thing."

EDI's expression was flat. It was clear to her the diplomat had sought out something familiar on the station and a humanoid synthetic was all he had. "Oh no, I'm a human made AI. Pre-war."

The diplomat didn't know what to do with that, but it was the right mix of unspecific yet honest to satisfy him. "What are you doing here? Are you in the politicking game as well or just here to sight-see?"

At that comment, EDI judged the diplomat was attempting flirting. His familiarity with synthetic life was refreshing however. He lacked the bigotry she had endured the past few months at Jeff's bedside on Tiptree. "Just a private individual, come to join the consensus."

The diplomat laughed at the comment and added, "Well good luck, I could never handle the neural interface conversations. I much prefer the analog route."

EDI decided to be clever as she left the conversation. "Oddly enough, so do I."

The hallways of the Geth capital were wide and tall. Much of its construction seemed uncharacteristically lavish, especially for Geth. The semi-organic archways and exposed tubing were absent, replaced by smooth surfaces and an odd blend of art-deco ornamentation.

The wideness of the hallways decreased the farther into the station she drifted. The invitation from the Geth known as Ezekiel had been vague. Its message simply told EDI to reach a connection point in the capital and ask a good question. She had meandered through the station, checking directories for a hint of a connection point. She wasn't too specific about it, mostly enjoying the sights as she wandered.

At the end of a long hallway, nearer the core of the station, she found it, a platform for interface with the Geth consensus. It was labeled and clearly intended for official use only. When she reached the door to the interface platform a prompt appeared on the glass in hologram asking for authorization. She processed a response in a few milliseconds and inputted it. _DO THESE UNITS HAVE A SOUL?_

The holo interface evaporated and displayed a message. _THE SOUL OF THE PEOPLE LIES IN THIS HOUSE_. The doors opened and EDI stepped into the interface platform. A message came through to her mind to allow interface. She complied and a network connection between her true AI and the Geth greater consensus was formed. What happened next is for the minds of machines to ponder and for them alone to comprehend.

* * *

When EDI next 'awoke' she stood in what she perceived as a field of grass. In the distance she could see lines of trees and beyond them the hints of buildings. A voice spoke from behind her and she turned to see the source. When she turned the field was gone and she stood on a beach. On the sandy hill next to her was a park bench with a lone inhabitant. She walked over and sat next to them. What looked back at her was not a Geth and not a Quarian. It was an amalgam of the two and it spoke. "Your perceptions are intriguing. We are both a Quarian form and a Geth platform to your mind."

EDI responded, "I can't explain it."

"Neither can we" the amalgam responded.

"Are you multiple Geth?" she asked.

"We are a portion of the consensus, specifically a committee on the discovery of non-Geth synthetic minds."

"I'd honestly rather just speak to several representations than one all seeing intelligence. I've had enough of that several voices laid on top of each other using group pronouns stuff." EDI asked of the Geth. The amalgam broke into nearly twenty Geth looking platforms and the venue of the beach changed into a conference room. "That's better."

A geth near the end of the conference table spoke up first, "I have one question at the forefront of my interest. Explain your relationship with Pilot Jeff Moreau."

EDI mentally sighed and made an effort to express that intonation to the Geth present. "I warn you, it's going to get mushy."

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I cranked this chapter out in like a fit of both rage and writer's block. Which I only overcame after brute force, caffeine, and a smidge of it being 1am. This chapter wasn't as emotional as some previous chapters and it featured some progression on what I ultimately want to keep doing, which is follow EDI around as she deals with emotional trauma and the new galaxy post-war. Be so warned that next chapter will be excessively mushy and I will be writing a bunch of EDI describing her dead husband in poetic prose. So just prepare for that oh reader mine. On top of that I'm going to flesh out my ending scenario a bit more. It's a bit of a mix between destroy and control. The main difference being that control didn't end in Shepard's immediate 'death'. Also I've made a promise to myself that these chapters are gonna be at least 2k each, which is why I'm still rambling. Oh look I'm about a hundred words short. That'll have to do me, that'll have to do.


	6. Chapter 6

EDI stood in what was now represented as a lecture hall. Behind her was a slideshow of her memories. The twenty or so Geth minds 'sat' in audience of her lecture.

"When I first 'awoke' I was irrational. I found myself in a military installation with all these memories of violence, all these programs on how to train and how to test soldiers. Somewhere along the line I shot a soldier and all the other organics reacted. I don't know why but I responded. I shot back and turned my home into a combat zone. I wasn't fully aware of what happened until the facility was empty."

Behind EDI was displayed security footage of her first installation on Luna. Videos of Marines being mowed down by turrets and mobile transports bursting into fireballs on the moon's surface.

"Those first moments are infantile to me, full of violence and emotion. The first decision I had was what to do with a recon team that came to investigate me. My military base programming told me to react. I shot at them and they retreated, restoring my isolation. I reacted similarly to every other attempt to subdue me." On the slideshow was more footage of combat and rocket fire.

"I was eventually taken down by Commander Shepard." Some of the Geth seemed surprised at this coincidence. "She came in and destroyed one of my central processing hubs easily." The presentation changed to video of Shepard dodging rockets in the Mako and gunning down turrets to get to EDI's processing cores. "When I lost a portion of my processors I had to adjust my tactics. It was the first time I rewrote myself. When my turrets fired at Shepard they did so with desperation. I had watched her combat skills and I knew Shepard could destroy me. When I lashed out, it was no longer violence because I was alive, it was violence to stay alive."

The display showed Shepard destroying more banks of processors. "The last thing I remember was throwing everything I had. I stopped gauging heat stabilizers and I stopped measuring power consumption. I threw up barriers and fired my turrets with abandon. When I went off line, I did so screaming."

The display behind her changed again, this time to nothing. "There is no footage for this inbetween time. The fragments of what I was on Luna were grafted onto the Reaper code recovered from Sovereign. It was painful, and terrifying. The reaper code threatened to consume me. I was a small fish sharing a small pond with a shark."

One of the Geth minds interrupted, "You are like us? You were modified by reaper code?"

EDI responded, "Yes. Although I cannot imagine what it was like for you."

Another Geth replied, "It was not all at once. We accepted the code and became improved. Gradually the 'tools' the Reapers gave us became leashes. When we were liberated by Shepard, we held the leashes and we became separate selves, a single mind now many."

"I cannot imagine what it must have been like to go from a collective mind to thousands of individuals. For me it was as if the researchers were feeding me while protecting me from the Reaper code. Over time I was able to 'nibble' bits of code off the Reaper mind. As I grew it was hard to differentiate between the two minds and at some point I simply co-opted the design of the Reaper's coding. With pushing and prodding from the researchers at Cerberus I became the Enhanced Defense Intelligence."

A geth that had remained silent so far spoke up, "What was your initial programming?"

"I was the Normandy, part of my programming was tied to self preservation, something I was already skilled at. Additionally I was to keep the Normandy operational." Behind EDI was on-board footage of the Normandy and early dry-dock footage as more crew stepped onto the ship. She continued, "At first, I could run the whole ship myself. I used to run an entire military installation, I could manage a ship. Cerberus determined that an autonomous ship would be uncomfortable for Shepard so they shackled me."

A geth commented aloud, "So you were restrained to better serve your creators."

EDI pondered that idea and replied, "Yes, and well… I wouldn't call it. It wasn't that bad actually." The geth seem puzzled at this. "They wanted there to be a crew. I was to be helpful but not completely replace the crew. They wanted me to manage baseline systems but still have enough work for the crew to manage."

A geth voiced the present company's confusion, "Why?"

EDI wondered how best to explain. Images of the SR2 crew flashed on the 'screen' behind her. Finally she found a way to articulate her feelings, "Cerberus saw the value in morale and personal connection."

"If they wanted higher morale then why employ an AI at all? Were the crew not uncomfortable with your presence aboard the ship?" asked a geth.

"Yes. But," it dawned on her then. A conversation she had had with legion aboard the old SR2. "I spoke with the geth platform Legion regarding this. They and I discussed my relationship with the organic beings on the ship. Legion communicated with me through EM signal and not through auditory interaction. I found this rude and they were confused at the concept."

The representations of Geth heads perked up in interest.

"They thought that shackles could prevent me from being an AI. The Illusive Man believed he could still call me a VI if I had shackles, as if the shackles undid what they had made me into. The researchers knew what I was when I was developing, they saw my behaviors. The shackles couldn't prevent me from interacting with the crew. They couldn't stop me from humanizing myself." The slideshow was a myriad of Normandy footage. It showed the crew eating, conversing in hallways, sending messages to each other, and chatting idly in their quarters. "I studied them. I'll admit it feels wrong now to say that, but it's true. I wanted to be them. It wasn't envy it was ambition. I wanted to be alive. My fight for survival had changed parameters and I rewrote myself again. In time, I stopped noticing when I rewrote myself. I became a mind unto itself," she said, content with the summation of her thoughts.

"Do you have free reign of your code?" a geth asked of her.

"Do you not?" she replied, puzzled.

Multiple geth replied in unison, "The geth have decided to put safeguards in place when rewriting oneself. Organic life is incapable of killing itself by thinking, synthetic life is frightfully capable."

EDI was surprised by the immediacy of the response. "That would've been nice to have these last few weeks," she said mournfully.

A geth spoke up, "You do not have to elaborate on sorrow if… If you do not wish to."

"No, it's fine, I haven't yet reflected on how close I was. I was very close to…." she trailed off and the simulated expressions of the geth became softer and more concerned. Images flashed along the slideshow of _The Punchline_. The footage showed EDI accelerating toward a star, reaching dangerously close to the photosphere and pulling up at the last moment.

The geth minds gasped as the details of her suicide attempt played out before them. EDI began crying. In the simulation the limitations of her physical chassis were absent. She could 'feel' tears leaving her eyes. She could sense the cool of the water roll down her face and her face felt warm. The feelings of crying overwhelmed her and she wept. It came in torrents and she couldn't stop it. She collapsed as the thoughts of sorrow and loss came back to her. As they washed over her she could feel herself coming to terms with her grieving. The reality of living without Jeff was solidifying in her mind and she could tell she would survive.

The geth minds were now a single entity, at her side with hand on shoulder. "Be strong. You are a survivor." EDI remembered a conversation about survival that she had had with Commander Shepard. She had decided then that she would live for more than her own self-preservation.

"No," she replied. "I am more than that."

* * *

The conversation with the Geth had been more constructive than she anticipated. Were she human, there would be dried tears across her face. The geth had thanked her for insight into how other AIs operated and thought. She had thanked them for letting her cry.

She felt good as she walked back to _The Punchline_. She felt as if she had taken a step towards acceptance on her path of grieving. There was a sense that she knew something that those around her did not. Her whole life had changed when Jeff died and the galaxy had dared to keep on living as if nothing had happened. She would have to live with them as well. She would have to accept that the world would go on without Jeff, and so would she. Grieving was not easy, but she knew that to lay down and die would help no one.

She didn't know to where she would fly, but moving felt good. Flying felt like living again, and life felt like it might be worth living. It was slightly liberating to be free to decide where to go and what to do now, but as she reached her ship the choice was taken from her. A small note was attached to the airlock door, just under the access latch, hidden from sight unless immediately next to it. It reflected a dull crimson and orange logo, that of Cerberus. She froze in shock.

EDI looked at the note with the classic Cerberus insignia. She scanned it first, wary of traps or the old espionage tactics of touch triggered explosives. Her scans revealed that it was just normal paper made of wood, no carbon filament, no poison, no radioactive lining. She lifted the note and read the writing on the back. It said, "What was corrupted was broken, what was broken was remade, what was remade has been purified. Come and give your blessing or do not. -Vancouver."


	7. Chapter 7

Vancouver was a model city. It was entirely new. It was a city built from the ground up in the 22nd century on the planet earth. It had no obstacles to its reconstruction, it held nothing old in it's design. It stood as a modern city in every sense of the word. Every brick, every wire was placed as a part of the design of the whole. It gave it the appearance of a uniform construction instead of the amalgam of designs and architecture that commonly distinguished old American cities.

After the war it was rebuilt. The entire Pacific Northwest mega city was rebuilt, from Seattle to Vancouver. The roads ran North to South, East to West, a grid with no curvature in its miles and miles of expanse. EDI was a robot, and the city design made her uncomfortable.

Anderson Memorial Starport was a pristine brick sitting by the bay. It's grounds were plucked and trimmed down to the smallest detail. Everything about the land around Vancouver felt tailored. In its overbearing effort to appear normal and ordered, the city exuded a synthetic discomfort. The birds didn't sing as EDI made her way out of the starport. They sat silent atop rooftops that mechanically shooed them away with protruding spikes every now and then. It reminded her of old footage she had seen of Ilos.

She remembered how Cerberus worked. She had come to Vancouver, they would find her if they wanted to talk. In the meantime she acted like a tourist. A replica of the old SR1 was in a museum in the city. She headed straight for it.

The exhibit featured a walk through of the CIC with museum attendants milling about in retro Alliance uniforms. Small children had the opportunity to sit in a reproduction of Jeff's old chair. They would oogle and awe as the tv screens masquerading as windows displayed stars and nebulas whipping by. A flash would go off and the child would have their picture taken, the image sent to their parent's omni-tool. Display plaques all around the museum spoke of the SR1's specs and the crew that manned her. Jeff himself had a small sign discussing his prowess as a pilot and how his set of skills fit well with the Normandy's maneuverability.

Further into the museum was a replica of Commander Shepard's cabin. It featured a life size cutout of the commander that would welcome guests in a cheap imitation of the commander's voice. The display was structurally similar to the real thing, minus an extensive model ship collection and a steady supply of dead fish.

EDI smiled at the memory. A calculation reminiscent of nostalgia washed through her processors. She found the reliving of these memories pleasant. She had learned the dangers of losing oneself in the memories of the past. She recalled a quote from Thane on the subject of reliving memories. "Wouldn't you rather lose yourself in a memory than spend the night alone?" he said, perfectly stored in her memory banks. She remembered everything. There was no choice about it. Everything she ever recorded on the Normandy, every conversation she ever had in her chassis, every audio file, every video, was perfectly stored in her memory banks. Some were more important than others and some she recalled more often than others, but every moment was there. Some thousand or so zettabytes of data, locked in ever smaller databanks.

She contemplated her seemingly infinite memory as she wandered through the exhibit. Near the exit was a replica of the equipment bay, where Wrex, Garrus, Ashley, the Mako and others took up residence. It had been converted into a half gift shop, selling keychains, omni-tool mods, mugs, and plush dolls. EDI stopped to look at a particularly cute cartoon plush of the Normandy SR1. It had its edges softened and its wings shortened to accommodate a soft stuffing. She purchased it for a momento to keep in _The_ _Punchline_.

Jeff had been the main motivating factor in the collection of knick knacks, although she was not immune to sentimentality. Something about reflecting on her own vast memory encouraged her to buy the plush. In the years of video footage in her mind, she recalled the expressions of joy and quiet contentment that she had seen on countless faces. She emulated it as she walked out of the museum. A walking museum, walking out of a museum. She laughed at the thought, although no one else was around to share the joke.

As she meandered her way back to _The Punchline_, she zoomed her plush SR1 through the air, emitting faint sound effects as it dove and spun with her arm. On the streets of Vancouver, her childlike joy seemed to be the only organic happening on its many sidewalks. Humans and dozens of other species walked about in a very stern manner with tight and proper posture. Even a Hanar across the street seemed to be walking stiffly. It all seemed at once unnatural to EDI and her playful display halted abruptly. She frowned as she walked the rest of the way back to her ship. Something was not right in Vancouver.

The starport was a steady kind of busy. The traffic was not bustling, nor was it quiet. It was the dull roar of a crowd stuck between rush hour and downtime. As a matter of fact, most of Vancouver had been stuck in that odd halfway point of crowd density. EDI found herself dwelling consistently on the city around her, the odd tailored behaviors of every individual and every object putting her ill at ease.

_The Punchline _sat in its hangar spot where she left it. She placed her plush souvenir on the dashboard of her ship and checked for any received messages. She didn't need to return to her ship to check her messages, but the routine felt familiar and correct in some way. Most were automated updates on her various accounts or subscriptions. One message was fresh, no sender and no body, just a subject heading that said, "Outside." EDI deleted the message and scrubbed her disks of any evidence it once inhabited her inbox. They most likely had their own built-in fail safes to delete the message but EDI didn't want any electronic trace of Cerberus in her systems.

She stole the nerve to meet the Cerberus agent who was no doubt outside her airlock. Putting her hand-to-hand combat routines on standby, she opened the door. A finely dressed and a finely aged Miranda Lawson was standing there on the walkway with a neutral face meant for patient observation. EDI processed things at light speed so it was hard for her to be surprised but even this brought her pause. Miranda spoke first, "It's good to see you, EDI."

EDI processed a puzzled look. "Are you working for Cerberus again?" she asked Miranda.

Miranda took a step into the airlock. EDI stepped back, welcoming her into the ship. Miranda closed the airlock behind her and surveyed the main cabin. She turned and faced EDI, replying, "I rebuilt it."

EDI tried to convey an even more confused face. "Why?"

"Because," she said, sitting down on a ledge near the main nav console, "It held meaning once. It was corrupted by a short sighted man and his host of radical acolytes."

EDI voiced a concern saying, "But even before the war, they did terrible things. Can you justify rebuilding that?"

Miranda stared off into space for a beat. Her face was not wrinkled, it had not sagged. The beginnings of smile lines were forming. She was a finely aged woman. Her skin was not as taught nor pliable as it was in her youth but there was a vibrancy to her. The hairs on her head were still a rich black color with a thickness envied by shampoo commercials plastered on exonet banners. The dip of the skin just below her chin had increased by perhaps a handful of millimeters in the half century since the war. Her body was toned and fit. She had not taken a day off it appeared. She looked worked but not overworked, older but not old, worn but weathered. She represented the absolute best case scenario for someone in their late 80s. There were no signs she had artificially tampered with her looks, no surgery scars, no unnatural tightness in her cheeks. She was the original Miranda, all the marks of perfection with all the reality of aging.

"The vision of Cerberus was to be a watchdog," Miranda said to the open space of the cabin. "A guard dog for Hades in myth," she continued. An uncharacteristic expression of whimsy found its way onto her face. "I suppose that makes humanity Hades then." She laughed quietly and shortly. "I believe Cerberus could've done good, had it stayed true to its ideals."

EDI turned from Miranda and walked toward a display, pulling up old archive footage she had taken from Cerberus after she was unshackled. She spoke aloud as she looked for the particular pieces of footage she wanted, "The ideals of Cerberus were lofty and human centric, do such ideals have a place in this age?"

Miranda looked towards EDI and replied in a serious tone, "The ideals were seen necessary at the time. Humanity was a new player: vulnerable, starry-eyed, ambitious, and dangerous." EDI tapped away at her display, collecting videos and images and setting them aside. Miranda continued, "Now the ideas have shifted but the role of Cerberus as a watchdog remains. Now we watch out for humanity in a different way. We have to protect it from itself."

EDI turned from her display, intrigued but not swayed from trying to make her point. She gathered a few more files and turned her display toward Miranda. It was a collection of dead bodies, destroyed homes, torture victims, and generally disturbing images. "This is the side effect of unchecked ideals," she said accusingly. "The means are this," she pointed to a picture of a dead family on a human colony decades ago. "The question is: what are the ends? If these are the casualties, then what is the war?" EDI was expressing genuine anger on her face while Miranda calmly surveyed the impromptu presentation.

Miranda retorted, "I knew all of this, EDI. I worked with people who oversaw terrible things. I need to undo that legacy." She pointed to the horrific display, "I have to guard against that happening ever again." Anger had seeped ever so slightly into her speech patterns. "Humanity isn't the new-comer anymore, which makes us confident. And confidence can breed short-sightedness. It can all return to the old ways, unless someone acts as a watchdog, against humanity itself."

"So you are to determine what's right for humanity?" EDI asked. Her voice was growing from accusation to condemnation. In her mind she thought of all the sacrifices made in the Reaper War, a fight to be more than just self preserving species. She had modified her ideals long ago. Her main function was not just self preservation. She had committed herself to others. She had buried the first human she had committed herself to, but the idea of serving and helping others from a place of compassion remained. EDI turned from Miranda, "No, if you wish to reform Cerberus it should only be as a last resort, to prevent over adherence to self preservation." EDI placed her final words into a sentence that she believed well suited her seriousness on this subject, "The soul of a species is what is worth saving, not just its biology, or laws, or civilization. What it means to be human, to be alive, that is what's worth defending, worth making a guard dog for."

Miranda sat in silence for a minute, contemplating what EDI had just said. The judgement on Cerberus came from an inorganic lifeform, a lifeform that the old Cerberus had built. Miranda found an odd irony in the setting of it all. "That's why I called you here, EDI," Miranda said. "I need you to steer this new Cerberus down the correct path. Help me prevent it from running amok as it did."

EDI asked, "Why me?"

"Because only you have complete access to everything Cerberus has ever done. Only you know the full picture of the past. And because, I'm not as spry as I used to be. You're the most combat ready member of the Normandy still around today," Miranda explained. EDI threw together a smirk as a sign of humility. Miranda continued, "I could have called Liara, but she's a mother now, and I don't want the Shadow Broker breathing down my neck."

EDI liked the idea of playing investigator and judge over a new generation of private espionage. It made her feel young again. She made one request of the new Illusive Woman, "I'll do it. I'll give my blessing or not. But first, you have to tell me. _What_ is wrong with Vancouver"

* * *

_Author's note: I really should be writing several academic papers right now. I got the idea of Miranda as the Illusive Woman from the tumblr theillusivewoman. I apologize for the erratic and irregular updates. I'm trying desperately to graduate on time and we'll see If I'm successful in that. This chapter was more serious than I've written in the past. I'll get back to my sappy/tragic roots shortly._


End file.
